


Mating Habits of a Lost Korugarian

by w3djyt



Category: Green Lantern - All Media Types
Genre: Kink Meme, M/M, Mating
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-19
Updated: 2015-06-30
Packaged: 2018-04-05 04:49:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4166511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/w3djyt/pseuds/w3djyt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Thaal Sinestro suffers the most embarrassing morning of his life, and Hal Jordan's week is better than expected.</p><p>[ Kink Meme fill for "TLDR; Sinestro goes into heat, blacks out, and wakes up with Hal as his new mate." ]</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is a fill for a prompt from a 2011 LJ Kink Meme I was reading through the other day. Yes I know it’s 2015. In my defense, I just found out I liked Green Lantern / Hal Jordan / Sinestro like two months ago. 
> 
> At any rate: here’s having-to-mate-so-badly-he-blacks-out-and-wakes-up-mated-to-Hal-Jordan with bonus confusion over consent slightly subverted. Also, internal panic attacks. Enjoy!

It was his infernally accurate internal clock more than any light or noise that eventually dragged Sinestro back to conscious thought. Well, he opened his eyes at least. Consciousness on the level that involved intelligent thought still seemed a little slow in coming. The strange ceiling above him raised only the most muffled of alarms in a mind still wallowing in a decidedly pleasant wash of warm sensations he only fuzzily attempted to put words to.

Decidedly Korugarian words.

Habit, then, was what finally pushed his body to movement. Paranoia and years of poor experiences waking in strange locations forcing him to test the movement of his limbs in some way. The bedding was soft and light and – a low groan interrupted his drifting thoughts.

“ _Already_?”

What.

“I mean not that it hasn’t been _nice_ , but a man’s gotta _rest_ at some point.”

No.

“… Yes?” It was said with a familiar huff and breathless chuckle, but Sinestro wasn’t sure he was ready to look over just yet. “I mean, if we’re goin’ another round…” A shift of weight beside him and, yes, he knew all too well the exact mass and displacement and _heat_ of Hal Jordan to need no visual confirmation, but that wasn’t exactly helping things just then. “… all yours,” Hal finished his mumbling on an exhale, settling down into whatever kind of mattress they were apparently lying on. “Just, ya’ know, don’t ‘spect me to move or anythin… “

Sinestro closed his eyes against the irrational, _unhelpful_ spike of adrenaline trying to push him into motion again. A long, slow inhale and careful exhale followed.

“… Sin?”

Adrenaline kicked in anyway, and it was all Sinestro could do to maneuver _away_ from the human when his entire body was in vociferous protest. No longer pleasantly lethargic, the chemical cocktail coursing through his veins stimulated and encouraged and caused his stomach to jump up into his throat.

“Don’t,” he curtly commanded, swinging his legs over the side of the bed and adding a flash of yellow from his raised hand to compliment the action when no amount of authority would actually enter his voice.

“… Little late to be shy, you know,” came Hal’s tired drawl a moment later. Whether it was a rare moment of insight for the man or pure exhaustion, Sinestro wasn’t about to question his companion’s resultant slump into the mattress. At least he seemed more coherent and not quite as a confrontational as usual ( _previously –_ his mind unhelpfully corrected).

Barely suppressing a groan, Sinestro simply closed his eyes again, curled over his knees and set his face into his hand. His heart rate continued to speed against all attempts to regulate it. This was ridiculous. He hadn’t felt like this in… years? Decades? He should have been long past these… irrational impulses. Yet, somehow, here he was and here Hal was and damned if the human didn’t even seem the least bit _concerned_ about it.

Of course, he could very well have simply fallen asleep, given how completely exhausted the man had sounded a minute ago.

Against his better judgment, Sinestro cast a glance back over his left shoulder and was immediately greeted with an image he wasn’t likely to forget ever in his life. His hand nearly ripped into the mattress from the surge of hormones that followed. Seeing Hal naked, mussed, and entirely too pleased with himself wasn’t exactly a new experience. Hal Jordan _generally_ looked like the cat that caught the canary after sharing his bed. A completely fucked out mess of a human that looked equal parts straight up _mauled_ as he did downright prurient? Control was a difficult thing to come by.

Jordan, of course, merely offered a broad, blissful grin. “Hey,” he rasped, face still half buried in one of the large pillow-like cushions scattered over the large bed. “Welcome back?”

A sharp frown followed the greeting. “… How long?” Should he be thankful the words were steady? Sinestro wasn’t generally one for gratitude, but at the moment he’d take what scraps of his dignity he could gather.

“Mmm… Fuck if I know.” Hal unhelpfully returned, staring a moment longer before struggling to push himself up and glance about the room, ostensibly for a clock, Sinestro supposed. “Uh… what standard you on right now?”

Silence bloomed as Hal’s shifting paused and Sinestro’s ego refrained from explaining that he didn’t actually _know_ where they were, let alone what standard of time he’d been functioning on prior to arriving. He narrowed his eyes instead; a default action with the human, true, but a generally effective one (when he wasn’t tangled up in sheets and no doubt just as mussed as his companion, judging by his own general languidity and soreness).

Jordan merely sighed at this, looking more amused than honestly annoyed with the response, and slid back down into the sheets. “Right. Well. Can’t be more than a day, then-“ A yawn interrupted and he rolled to his back with a stretch. “We’d have been interrupted otherwise.”

No more than a day… since when?

In the midst of wracking his brain for an answer, however, the other half of Hal’s commentary made it through to his more logical psyche. “ _Interrupted_?” Thankfully, he’d managed the right amount of disdain and general irritation to cover the hormone spiked panic that assailed him.

Hal’s expression screwed up into some combination of uncertainty and cautious amusement. “Yeah, uh… that’s gonna happen when you show up like that… and we, ah, _leave_ like that.” Giving less than a moment for his words to drag any relevant memories to mind, the lantern quickly added, “Not that I’m complaining! I didn’t really want to be at the talks _anyway_. Don’t know _why_ everyone keeps insisting I-”

“ _Talks?_ ” If Sinestro could have murdered his vocal cords for the octave that came out at, he would have. He hadn’t been _this_ bad since –

“Did we fuck everything over one syllable out of you or something?” Hal barked a laugh and Sinestro – no, he _definitely_ did _not_ flush. His not-flushing still caught Hal’s attention, apparently, as the human was clearly startled into scrambling up into a sitting position. “Holy Hell, Sin, I was kidding! Are you…?”

Sinestro dropped his head to his hand for the second time in so many minutes and turned to let himself fall back against the – wall? headboard? He sighed. “As usual, Jordan, you have _completely_ _missed the point_.”

“Three syllables!”

He lowered his hand enough to increase his glare.

“Yeah, that’s really not as effective as you want it to be.”

“ _What. Talks?_ ”

That, at least, brought a pause and an arched eyebrow. When he didn’t elaborate, however, the other eyebrow went up and Hal sat back. “You… really don’t remember any…” He cleared his throat and a somewhat useless gesture between them. “… Anything?”

The withering glare continued, and Hal’s expression turned markedly _concerned_. Sinestro wasn’t sure if that was really what he wanted just then, but his pulse jumped again and he had an irritating constriction in his chest as a result. He would be damned before he allowed any of it to show, and stubbornly maintained eye contact, even if he didn’t manage to _say_ anything. It took Jordan another moment to gather himself when it became clear just how far gone things really were. Anxiously, he ran a hand back through his hair and Sinestro tried desperately not to track the fall of it back down over his face.

“… Oookay.” Another, steadying breath and Hal gave a shake of his head. “Okay,” he repeated, more firmly this time, and finally met Sinestro’s glare once more, though it seemed like it was taking quite a bit more effort than usual. “Just, ah- Just to be _clear_ …” He squirmed – actually _squirmed_ in place as if his skin had abruptly turned to scales and the sudden need to slither out of it overcame him.

Sinestro dropped his hand with a snapped, “ _Yes?_ ” in an attempt to goad complete sentences out of his suddenly recalcitrant companion.

Immediately, Hal’s hands went up in a universal sign of backing the hell off. “I just… Did you – _fuck_. I can’t believe I’m- didyouactually _want_ tosleepwithmeor… ?”

They were not having this conversation. He was _not_ having this conversation with _Harold_ fucking _Jordan_.

“Do you _ever_ think?”

Except apparently he was. At least he’d managed a proper snarl this time.

“Hey! I-”

“ _Yes_ ,” Sinestro cut in before Hal’s indignation could completely derail into a rant or battle he frankly couldn’t deal with when his own physiology was already at war with him. At least the answer had managed to shut the man up for another second. “I came for you, did I not? That _would_ imply-”

“Heh, yeah, you came for me a few times, actually.” Hal gave a salacious eyebrow wiggle.

Sinestro gave up, and lurched up from the bed a second later.

“Whoa, hey, I didn’t-“ Hal scrambled quickly over, his hand within centimeters to Sinestro’s skin before a very haphazard yellow _something_ skittered between and pushed him back, the Korugarian leaping away as if stung.

“I told you to _stop_!” he snarled, golden glow shivering away to nothing a split second after. There was no hiding the physical reaction the sudden proximity had caused: his chest heaved, there was a slight trembling in his limbs that so desperately urged him forward again, and – perhaps most damning of all – his perfect constructs arose in a blur at only his most valiant insistence. It was enough, at least, to hold Hal mute in reply.

… For all of a minute.

“… What-“

“Ask the repository of knowledge on your finger!” Thaal snapped.

“Cut me some slack, here!” Jordan partially demanded, mostly huffed. “My best frenemy shows up blitzed and horny as fuck, I do ask a _few_ questions, you know!”

Ignoring Hal’s choice of vocabulary was, at least, something more familiar. “ _Do tell_ ,” he gritted out, balling his hands to fists in a bid to keep himself in place rather than leap back on to the human once more.

Jordan at least managed to look a little sheepish, a hand raising to rub at the back of his neck. Humans, it seemed, tended to do that when uncertain or nervous. “Okay, well, maybe I could have asked _more_ , but the ring mentioned something about hormone levels before _you_ said something about mating, and you can be _very convincing_.”

“ _Really_ ,” the Korugarian scathingly drawled, finally able to cross his arms again and settling under the amount of control the motion alone proved he’d wrested from his baser impulses. “You never seem particularly inclined to _listen_ most of the time.”

“Well…” A raised eyebrow resulted in a wicked grin from Hal and Sinestro immediately regretted prompting him further. “The hyper aggressive sexual overdrive _was_ hot as hell, not gonna lie. Also I kind of thought I was never going to see you again, so there’s that,” he hurriedly finished.

Sinestro only managed a huff to cover his sigh and briefly turned his gaze away in a last attempt to produce thought beyond the mindless struggle with instincts that had yet to run their course. “It _is_ hormonal,” he eventually announced to the far wall. It was taking too much effort to maintain the conversation while _looking_ at Hal. Inhale, exhale, focus on the sheet like flags draped down the tall wall across from them. The odd color mixes rang faint bells of recognition in the back of his overworked mind and were thusly ignored. “I _should not_ be subject to it any longer, however.”

Jordan shifted on the bed, a rustle of the sheets and the soft padding of his feet touching the cool floor causing golden eyes to snap back. “I got it, I got it: no touching. Just lookin’ for something,” he waved off, making a show of turning for a nearby table and what appeared to be a puddle of emerald cloth.

Sinestro arched an eyebrow and simply waited, knowing better than to bother continuing when Hal’s attention was elsewhere. He was starting to wish the man had just stayed in bed, however; at least then it was harder to visualize everything the sheets covered. _Neither_ of them had any shame about standing around naked for this conversation, but _Hal_ wasn’t the one dealing with upstart biological imperatives. The human gave a triumphant little ‘aha!’ the moment Sinestro’s gaze drifted lower, catching him just as he – _stupidly, instinctively_ – snapped it back up to met the human’s all too amused expression.

“Down boy.”

Thaal glared.

Hal beamed and tucked his retrieved commlink into his ear. “At least until I can get us something to eat,” he announced with a wink. _Why_ was that so rakishly attractive? It was like being _twenty_ all over again!

“I don’t need _food-!_ ”

“Okay, then let me get _myself_ something to eat,” Jordan immediately cut in, tapping at the device in his ear. “And maybe let everyone know I’m still kicking.” He turned away with a laugh seemingly triggered by whatever response was growled into his ear. “Ah, yeah, morning? Sorry about that.” He didn’t sound sorry at all.

Sinestro turned away, facing the wall of flags again with half an ear on the other man’s conversation. It was hard to completely pull his attention away from the careless way Hal moved: pacing shortly between a large window and the bed on bare feet, honed muscle rippling beneath bruised, battered, and _marked_ skin. His scent _alone_ – a musk of lingering arousal and exertion – proved particularly cloying. It was as if every one of his senses was incapable of providing feedback that didn’t involve Hal Jordan in some way. Annoying. Attractive.  

Golden eyes narrowed suddenly.

 _Talks_.

“Jordan.”

“ – no, he’s just being growly, hold on. Yeah?”

Sinestro’s back remained ramrod straight, muscles visibly taut as he used every ounce of control he could muster not to turn back around. “… How many people know I am currently with you?”

Even after so long, the sweet tang of nervous fear that spiked immediately after remained unmistakably Hal’s. “Uh… one…” He coughed into his hand, “human.”

“ _And_?”

“… And maybe a… demi goddess… Kryptonian… Martian… whoa-!” Hal stumbled back from Sinestro’s sudden about-face, glaring him down with such intensity that he wasn’t sure if he was aroused or should possibly be running for his life. His hand went back to his commlink. “Hey, uh… you know what? Don’t worry about any of that.” Sinestro stalked closer. “I’m just – yep, I’m gonna be a… while-”

He was, in fact, three more days, ten hours, and six minutes.

At least, those were the first words out of Bruce’s mouth when he stumbled into the hallway some time later. The soft emerald cloth of the honorary robes he’d been gifted when they arrived managing to trip him up. He squinted against the brilliant light of the hallway and the one black spot in it that marked the Dark Knight’s typical regalia, wondering if he was perhaps seeing things.

“They’re gifts,” Batman curtly supplied.

Hal stretched, leaning back a bit with a yawn. “Yeah?” He glanced around for the usual cart of food he’d managed to snag during the brief pauses of the past couple of days. “Something you did?” Ah, yes, there, behind the large vase with a wildly sprouting white flower of some kind – only to pause when, for just a moment, it seemed like Batman’s lips quirked upward in amusement.

“No.”

Hal just shook his head and continued on to the cart, suppressing another yawn along the way. “Okay, well, have fun with that, I guess.” He took two steps back towards the door, cart in tow, before pausing again. “… _Not_ something you did?”

“No.”

“… Something _I_ did?” A smirk was slowly tugging his lips upward. He straightened and turned to really take a look around him at the neatly stacked piles of cloth, bottles, vibrantly colored boxes, and various forms of greenery that extended up and down the hall from his borrowed rooms. “… Some _one_ I did?”

“Apparently, having a Korugarian mate is highly regarded here,” Batman deadpanned.

Hal’s smirk quickly expanded to a pleased grin.  

“… Especially now.”

The additional remark made him instantly deflate and toss an irritated look at his companion. It wasn’t exactly something he wanted to be reminded of – _especially_ now. “You didn’t tell them anything _else_ , did you? ‘Cuz he’s already pretty twitchy about you guys. Well, showing back up kind of ruined his dramatic exit.”

Batman held his gaze in silence for a long moment, the drape of his cloak and the white of his lenses making it impossible to suss out anything through body language alone.  But by now, Hal knew to wait it out, and was eventually rewarded with a response from Bruce instead. “Rumor has more than a few Korugarians in this city alone. They _were_ an interstellar people at one point. You already have a reputation. It will hold.”

Hal’s smile crept back into place. He offered up a lazy salute in thanks and turned back for the door. “Always a fun time-”

“Answer your comm.”

“Yeah, ye- tch.”

Gone again.

With a shake of his head and a soft chuckle, Hal turned his attention back to his room, his ridiculous life, and the perks of xenophilia.


	2. Commotion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The aftermath.
> 
> [ In which no one is surprised Hal messed up his love life... again. ]

“You’re not going to do it again, are you?”

“Do what?”

“Run off to the other side of the universe with a bunch of mostly bad guys, not bother to explain anything and leave us to clean up the mess?”

“ _What_? No! I-”

“ _Hal_.”

“… Maybe?”

Barry sighed and put a hand over his eyes, rubbing at them tiredly.

“Look, it’s not like I _meant_ to,” Hal tried again, trying not to pout over a wide brimmed glass of alien whiskey.

“How do you not _mean_ to sleep with someone?”

“What? No, I- that… that’s not what I meant!” The lantern threw himself back in his chair, staring at the high, blank ceiling above as he let the short rush of energy slip away. Barry was usually cathartic, but this wasn’t exactly the easiest conversation to have, either. Leave it to the one person he never expected to see again to mess things up so thoroughly in such a short span of time. His thumb tapped impatiently against the rim of his glass as he thought, the liquid inside remaining mostly for show as he’d yet to take more than a sip of it.

“Okay, well, I’m clearly missing something here, then,” Barry tried again, straightening up in his own chair in a bid for balance on the strange, half floating thing as much it was to try and get Hal’s attention. “Because from what I’m hearing it sounds like you jumped at the chance to shack up with – and I don’t think I’m exaggerating here – one of the _terrors of the universe_. Carol’s _going_ to kill you; you know that, right?”

“… Wouldn’t be the first time,” Hal muttered over a hard grimace, picturing her expression the last time Sinestro had quite literally dragged him from her bed.

“And you don’t sound the _least bit_ worried about that. Wow. Okay. Did I miss the memo on Korugarian pheromones or something?”

“Wh-what?!” Hal choked out over a hot flush quickly extending up to the tips of his ears.

Barry gave a low whistle and wobbled back in his chair, open amusement in the twist of his lips. “You are _so_ screwed. That’s… actually kind of impressive. Even for you.”

“You know, if I wanted to be told how badly I fucked up, I wouldn’t have needed to drag you across the galaxy to do it,” Hal groused through the flush, hiding behind his glass as best he could.

“Yeah, but the fact that you _did_ drag me across the galaxy means you never gave anyone else already _here_ the chance to tell you, either,” Barry pointedly returned. “And I honestly think I’m taking this whole thing pretty well considering how long you’ve avoided telling me about any of this. Apparently.”

Hal’s attention snapped back to his friend in an instant, a slightly bemused expression chasing his blush. “I sleep with a _lot_ of people, Barry, I don’t tell you about _most_ of them – it’s never really been relevant.”

Barry stared. “Never…?” He struggled for a moment before managing to spit out, “Hal, you were _literally_ sleeping with the enemy for _how long_? How is that ‘not _relevant’_?”

“Well aside from the fact that he wasn’t ‘the enemy’” – bright green quotation marks flashed between them – “when it started… do you really want to have that discussion? Because it’s not going to end well.”

“So long as I’m stuck here helping you with your love life – _again_ – yeah, I think we need to have that discussion.”

Hal stared at him a moment longer, sizing up the speedster in a way typically reserved for b-grade villains before giving a shrug and tossing back the rest of his drink in one gulp.

“Okay. Well, for starters, I’m _far_ from the only person on this team who ‘literally sleeps with the enemy.’ Bruce has a damned _kid_ from it and I’m pretty sure he didn’t get the ‘why the hell were you sleeping _with the enemy_ ’ talk for it.  And anyway, I think my numbers stack up pretty well when you consider that every time we meet someone from _Clark_ ’s extended family there’s a 50/50 chance they’ll try to destroy the Earth.

“ _Then_ there’s the fact that most of Diana’s people think half the planet is redundant _and will act on it_ ; Arthur isn’t even technically on our side half the time; and I can’t even _begin_ to cover the various ‘gods’” – the quotes popped in and out of existence again – “connected to the powers and allegiances of a good few members who apparently don’t like us all that much; not to mention the very literal demons and magical whosawhatsits we routinely align with just to _survive_ and whatever else I’m forgetting right now.”

He paused a moment, glancing at his empty glass as if just remembering it was in fact still empty, and then setting it on a nearby table with a disappointed huff. “Honestly, you’ve probably got the best record when it comes to that sort of thing, but either way, that part’s really _not_ what I’m worried about.”

“… Okay.” Barry ran a hand back through his hair, mussing it out of the smashed down pile it made under his suit. “All right, fine, what am I doing here, then?”

“Helping me figure out what the hell I’m going to do _now_.”

A blond eyebrow arched, but Hal simply gestured with both hands between them rather than offer up further explanation. Barry gave a shake of his head and settled back for what he quickly realized was going to be a lot longer chat than usual. “Fine. Let’s start with something simple.”

Hal perked up a bit and immediately leaned forward, elbows on his knees, waiting.

“Do you still love her?”

A blink. “Of course!”

“… Do you love _him_?”

“… Shit.”

 ::::::::::::::::::::

 

Sinestro paced. It wasn’t something he did often and had required deliberate action to find a solid enough piece of rock to enable it, yet here he was; pacing some random moon at the outskirts of the universe. All around him, stars blinked from billions of miles away; nothing close enough to spawn life on the deserted place he’d landed. It didn’t stop the heat that simmered just beneath the surface of skin barely wreathed in yellow light. It didn’t erase the glint of gold from the armor-like construct cloaking him since he’d reinstated his connection with the entity of fear.

Parallax stirred somewhere within, be it mind or soul or some other metaphysical construct that had yet to be given a word. He couldn’t place the location or exact sensation, only that he knew – immediately and intimately – how it responded to the acknowledgment of his own fear. The entity and the emotion grew within him, but he crafted no cage nor tightened any bonds within to put a stop to either. Not after so long becoming acquainted with the powerful emotion.

Locking things away and ignoring them only strengthened fear. Only brought panic and enlivened terror more completely. It was that instinctive urge to flinch away and hide that caused so many to fall prey to the emotion. Clamping down and smothering it was only another, albeit more aggressive form of the same and something he’d learned long ago to push beyond. You couldn’t control fear if you did not first acknowledge it.

The pacing, at least, allowed him to expend energy in a way more helpful than spiraling through the known universe without a destination in mind.

The problem was there was nothing _else_ for him to do.

He was terrible at _not_ doing something. Anything. He had to have something to do, a task to accomplish: something to hold in feverish mind until finally complete. A mind now continually turned in one direction no matter what else he dwelled on. The emotion the constant reminder stirred was _definitely not_ fear. It was, however, something he very much did not want to have to acknowledge in the same way.

The problem, really, was that he actually thought he could step away. Thought it was _time_. That his story had finally come to an end. _He’d_ ended it in a way he could be content with – or so he’d told himself as he’d forcibly turned away from the cloying fear and dawning realization sweeping through the one being he still considered a friend at the end of a battle what felt like ages ago. Just another near miss, now, in the tale of their lives. A tragedy, he’d called it. One he was certain someone, yes, precisely ten sectors over still feasted upon.

His lips twitched upward in spite of himself: the image of Lyssa’s irritation at her favored bitter tale turning suddenly spicy and sweet too entertaining not to linger upon. For now, that amusement would have to do. Until his blood boiled again or the siren call of terror swept out from that one pinpoint in the cosmos he could find without thinking.

 

 ::::::::::::::::::::

 

“Wait, don’t tell me I’m the only one that didn’t know!” Barry cried out, zipping about between the rest of the present Leaguers.

“A previous or ongoing romantic relationship was the most likely explanation for the majority of his actions,” Batman dryly explained.

Wonder Woman shrugged. “I thought his lovers well known.”

“Aw c’mon! Spooky I get, but _you_ _too_?”

“… I thought cheating on your girlfriend was more of a spur of the moment thing?”

Hal paused, quirking his head to the side. “I’m… not sure that’s better?”

Superman just gave a small smile and slight shrug. “It’s probably not.”

“… J’onn?”

“You… your thoughts are very… loud,” the Martian carefully explained.

It was everything Hal could do not to light up like a Christmas tree or think about… certain… “Aw shit, there’s no stopping that now, is there?” he embarrassedly muttered, casting an apologetic glance in the Martian’s direction.

“Not in my experience, no.” It was, thankfully, delivered in the same monotone as the rest of his words, allowing the lantern some modicum of relief when he added, “I need not pay attention to it, however.”

“Which brings us back to the problem at hand.” Batman’s words cut through the awkward tension in seconds, something Hal had never truly appreciated before that moment. “Exactly how this new development complicates things.”

He took back every thankful thought in a second. “I don’t really think it complicates much of anything outside of my love life.”

“Your love life complicates _everything_ ,” Bruce bluntly countered.

“He has a point,” Barry chimed in before Hal could bluster his way out of talking about it. “I mean, not to beat the horse here, but it seems like _most_ of the high profile ‘problems’ we deal with from your end involve jilted lovers of yours or jilted lovers of lovers of yours.” He took a bite out of something that resembled an apple, giving only a mildly surprised expression when it tasted savory instead.

“I-” Hal only managed to puff up for a brief moment before fully dissecting everything built into that statement. “… Okay so maybe you have a point. Still, it’s not like it’s the end of the world.” Pause. “Universe.” … “Again.”

“It doesn’t seem to be something either of you is particularly in control of, either,” Clark gently pointed out, somehow looking more genuinely concerned than his own best friend. What the hell? “Is it affecting you in the same way it obviously does him?”

“I have never before witnessed Sinestro so completely out of his senses,” Diana put in, frowning thoughtfully. “It would be worrisome if that were to happen in the midst of battle. You said he controlled a great entity within himself… Is this not a threat to his control?”

“Ah, no, it-”

“You also said he _left_ ,” Bruce pointed out, blue gaze in the open for once and boring critically down on him.

“So did at least four other people you interrogated,” Hal sighed, crossing his arms and reclining back in the air under the comfortable hold of his own willpower. “Parallax…” He frowned, finding the words difficult to come by even so many years later. His gaze drifted briefly to the Flash, cowl still down and idly consuming the alien fruit piled on the low table at the center of the room. His mind’s eye was briefly filled with a mouth of pointed teeth and a sickly smile. The feel of his own, lingering terror was dulled and all the more concerning for it. “Sinestro isn’t possessed by it.” If it came out a little bitter, he still considered it a win that he could get it out at all.

“He seemed possessed by _something_.”

“Sure, if you want call being essentially drugged possession, I guess that could work,” the lantern flippantly returned, waving his hand to forestall more commentary. “This was – how did he put it – a ‘biological imperative.’ The chemical mix that makes male Korugarians so… sought after,” he lamely finished.

“In other words, it’s not going away.”

“… Probably not, no.”

Diana raised an eyebrow at the exchange, looking back and forth between bat and lantern as if she could pluck the meaning of their words from the air between them. “Do Korugarians not age past such things as humans do?” she eventually questioned.

Hal sighed, running a hand back through his hair and staring upward for a long moment. Unfortunately, the ceiling was still just as blank as when he’d last avoided the gaze of whomever he was speaking with. “They do once they have a kid.”

 _I_ _should not_ _be subject to it any longer._

The Amazonian frowned. “Still, it seems strange for it to suddenly become a problem. Are you sure he is not lying?”

“Ring, Korugarian mating cycles.”

< _The Korugarian reproductive system is primarily dictated by hormone levels that fluctuate based on interaction with a genetically compatible species - >_

“Fast forward. Male, repression,” Hal quickly interrupted, not interested in extending this longer than needed.

< _Genotypically_ _male Korugarians are more strongly affected than other sexes. When unable to copulate with a compatible mate, they are prone to chemical imbalances known to induce irrationality up to and including loss of survival mechanisms such as hunger, pain, and fight or flight distinction. >_

“In other words – the more you try to fight it, the worse it gets,” Hal quickly summarized. “Apparently, it’s seen kind of like being a teenager is on Earth,” he wryly continued. “Not much of a problem if you can get laid. Once you have a kid, the pheromone cocktail changes up and everything responsible for regulating the reproductive system calms down again.”

“… And if a child is never born?” Diana quietly prompted.

“Lots of sex and then, ah, whatever the menopause equivalent is for them, I guess?”

“Is he not-”

“Does it really matter?” Brown eyes finally shifted from ceiling to person again, Hal for once simply staring down the Amazonian princess. “It is what it is and it’s not changing any time soon.”

She held his gaze for a long moment, then smirked and crossed her arms. “Very well.” Another, appraising visual sweep and she turned back to their other companions. “I have no concerns.”

“… The lack of fight or flight distinction,” Bruce contemplatively began, pausing only long enough to drag Hal’s attention over to him. “It doesn’t affect his ability to… manage… Parallax?”

“No.”

“You’re _sure-_ ”

“ _Why_?” Hal righted himself in the air so he could better hold Bruce’s gaze with his own. “Do you have some sort of plan in place if he can’t?”

“There isn’t another person alive that can handle that thing.” The words burned in his throat, but Hal plowed on regardless. “Not being able to recognize fear would just make it more difficult for Parallax to dig its claws in, anyway. It… needs something to latch on to.” He abruptly set his feet to the ground, green light winking out of existence at the same moment. “Are we done here?”

Bruce’s gaze flicked to J’onn. The Martian merely stared back with the same, unreadable expression as always. “I’m finished.”

Clark gave a shrug. “If he tries anything, I’ll take him down.”

“… Are you… protecting my virtue?” Hal somewhat incredulously returned. “I mean, that’s sweet and all, but a couple decades too late…”

“I still say Carol’s going to kill you,” Barry unhelpfully added.

 

 ::::::::::::::::::::

 

 

“Less than a week, you aren’t in the middle of battle, and we’re on Earth,” Sinestro calmly observed as if he hadn’t just stepped across the universe and into Hal’s bedroom. “You intend to return it?” he summarized.

“You never know: I _could_ just want to chat,” Jordan pointed out, even as he slid the yellow ring from his finger, allowing the suit that instinctively formed to vanish back into jeans and a t-shirt. Instead of passing it back, however, he rolled it around in his palm, rubbing his fingers over the unearthly metal. Sinestro openly tracked the motion, noting the lack of any other ring on either hand before flicking his gaze back up in pointed question. Hal gave a half hearted shrug and closed his hand around the Qwardian ring in his palm, all too familiar now with the low thrum of his own uncertainty and hesitation as the ring registered it for what it was.

Another moment passed in silence before Sinestro touched down, shimmering yellow aura vanishing into his armor once more. “Why am I here, Jordan?”

“Because you can’t stay away, I’m guessing,” the human couldn’t help teasing in spite of the nonplussed expression it spawned. “It’s kind of funny, if you think about it. How far away were you when I put this thing on? Two sectors over? Twenty? But you still showed up almost instantaneously.”

“… _That_ frightens you?” The Korugarian’s expression was at once shrewd and bemused: as if being able to sense the emotion was actually more confusing than not.

“No,” Hal bluntly refuted, chuckling a bit at the look it spawned. “I realized that for the first time in my life I actually have the upper hand with you and I’m kind of terrified I’m going to fuck it up.”

“… I take it this has something to do with the handprint on your face?” Sinestro flatly noted.

Another, uncomfortable shrug. “On the plus side, everything important is still intact,” Hal offered, though it sounded more like a question than a statement. “So, uh, any chance we could have this discussion without the … with just the two of us?”

Sinestro’s brow furrowed, recognizing the familiar coil of tightly bound terror settled within the human as the same always present whenever he was aware of Parallax’s presence, but with only a slightly different note to it. Not what he would have expected were Jordan attempting to trap him in some way – anticipation and worry at war behind a wall of bravado. He wouldn’t need the entity to know it, either: the man wore his emotions in plain sight. Still, he hesitated.

“… Even if I remove the ring, the connection will not be severed so easily,” he finally settled upon.

“I know.”

The fear receded.

Sinestro reached through the air, dragging a yellow lantern between them and unceremoniously placing his fist before it. With a flash and a whisper, armor and cape dissipated to yellow and flew down his arm into the lantern, which he released into nothingness a moment later. Shadows spread over the room as he spread his hands, golden gaze expectant.

The fear sharply rose.

Hal stepped closer anyway, shoulders back and determined. Impossibly more attractive for it. “You never intended to come back.”

“No.” The fear lessened again and Sinestro suddenly understood. Without the hormones fogging his thought process enough for Jordan to distract him with banter and touch, or the threat of imminent interruptions, the reactions were easy to read.

“But now you have to,” Hal continued.

“Yes.” Such a simple answer for the amount of fear it diminished.

“Because you don’t have a choice.”

“Because, Hal Jordan, you are _mine_.” It was almost comically simple: just reaching out and taking what was before him. Dragging the human against him by the front of his shirt, eyes locked in an instant, gold boring into brown. “And the only way you could walk away from that was if I did it for you. So I did. Once.” He leaned closer still, cool lips brushing the shell of Hal’s ear. “Never again.”


End file.
